Post by Danjon no Unmei on May 1, 2019 15:50:05 GMT -5
Note: Re-posting this role play from another site because of the character development aspects pertaining to the Tiger Mask Undead character featured in GRIM's RPs. Leaving it in its original form, so ignore the actual RP aspects of the post (fyi, the show was never posted so the results don't matter 
).
“The battle line between good and evil runs through the heart of every man.”
-Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
A howl of outrage fills the air in the abandoned factory as the Necromancer makes his way down into the bowels of the structure. He worries not a single bit about anyone hearing the screams. He has eyes everywhere around the building, no one is within fifty kilometers of this place. Beside, they would soon be gone from here. Word had reached him that the Storm had taken notice, and that was someone he wasn’t ready to deal with at this time.
He hurried down the stairs and down the hall. The maddening screams grew louder and louder as he closed the distance between him and the heavy steel door. Producing a key from his pocket, he unlocked it and entered the room beyond. What he found almost took his breath away, limbs of many of his minions laid scattered around the room. The Necromancer nearly panicked, believing his most precious creation had found a way to escape, but his fears quickly dissipated as he discovered all his minions who could still had two legs to stand upon circling around a table, the very same table the angry cries were coming from.
Quickly, he stepped forward and sensing his presence, his masked followers parted like the Red Sea. Much to his delight, there upon the table laid Tiger Mask Undead, strapped down at the feet, , wrists and neck. He roared in anger as he saw his master appear and spat at him.
“IgiHveAmeTyoEurYblOooU! YiwOillUfeaDstIupDonTyoHurIflSeaTshOanMdrEipYouOtyUourPfucIkingEeyCesEyoOuaSssHhoIleT!”
The Necromancer smiled beneath his mask. He was glad to see this rage from his monster. There was still hope that his grand scheme would succeed. Success meant bringing the thousand year prophecy to its fulfillment, the awakening of the beast and the rebirth of the world around them. Failure was not option. He must succeed! For that to happen, his monster must grow stronger, more vicious and, most importantly, more subservient to his will, no matter the cost.
He snapped his fingers. Two of his minions brought over a car battery and a set of booster cables. The Necromancer took the cables and attached one side to the battery, before lifting the other ends and showing them to Tiger Mask Undead.
“Drastic times call for desperate measures, my pet. Fear not, for this will make you stronger than you were before. I would tell you this will hurt me more than it will you, but we both that’s a lie.”
The screams that followed made those that had come before it seem like whispers by comparison…
***
To Avery Miles III, Jana Rikar and Larry Gowan,
Dear “Heroes”,
You don’t know, but I hope you will pay heed to my words. I write these words with hope that you will take them close to your heart. BEWARE OF TIGER MASK UNDEAD!
I know what you’re thinking, that this letter is a joke, or worse, propaganda from the Necromancer and your other opponents coming up at “Santa’s Baking Brownies”. Please allow me to reassure you that nothing could be further from the truth. I stand beside those who oppose the Necromancer and his evil horde, and nothing would bring me greater joy than to watch him fail at whatever his vile objective would be. Regardless of whether or not you believe me though, I feel I must try at least to warn you of the monster that you stand across the ring from.
First and foremost, please believe me when I say that Tiger Mask Undead is not some “act” orchestrated by a man trying to revive his career. Tiger Mask Undead is very much real and if you do not find a way to defeat him once and for all, he will only grow stronger by the day. You might ask how I know this, and I truly wish I could tell you, but for the time being this must be kept a secret. The eyes of the Necromancer are everywhere and if he discovers who I am it will only double his efforts to bring about his plans.
Do not underestimate this creature. Yes he lost to JT Smith, but the Necromancer had just begun to gain control of him and their connection has just begun. As time progresses this connection will only grow stronger, and so will Tiger Mask Undead. I have yet to fully comprehend how this foul wizard has gained control over this monster, or how it’s possible this monster even exists, but perhaps I’ve said too much with that last statement.
Jana Rikar, Larry Gowan, forgive me of my ignorance but I am unfamiliar with either of you, so I will address Avery Miles III. Avery, I wish I could let you know who I am, but rest assured we have met a few occasions and I have nothing but the greatest respect for you. You have fought Tiger Mask Red on two occasions, but please believe me when I say that neither match will prepare you for this creature that will stand across the ring from you. This is an unrelenting monster whose only objective is destruction and I fear that the Necromancer will focus his monster’s unrelenting gaze at you. I encourage you and your partners to do everything possible to put this monster down, and I’m not talking about for the three count. I mean for good.
God help us all if you fail. Please, do not fail.
Sincerely,
A concerned friend.
***
“Hold that camera still, you buffon. Wait, this that thing running? Are we live? Damn!”
Cold opening. Do not adjust your television. (Does anyone actually need to do that anymore?) The screen slowly grows clear and the Necromancer stands front and center, his hands folded across his stomach. He bows to the camera and raises his hands in the air with a theatrical gesture. (You don’t know what that means? Look it up, kids, I don’t have the time or patients to explain it. Now shut up, the goofball in the mask is about to speak!)
“Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. Once again you find yourself graced by the presence of none other than I, Esior, the Necromancer! Before I go any further, I wish to apologize to Senor Caballo De Guerra, I did see that tweet that you sent my monster. I am truly sorry that neither of us responded to you within a timely fashion, but when you are concentrating on creating a perfect weapon of destruction, other things tend to be overlooked and forgotten.”
The Necromancer suddenly pauses and starts blinking rapidly. (The idiot has forgotten where he was going with this. Are you surprised? I’m not, and I’m writing this shit.) He suddenly has his eureka moment and gets back on track.
“At ‘Guerreros of Lucha: Chapter Dieciocho: Santa's Baking Brownies’, those at attendance in the world famous Labyrinth and those watching from every corner of the globe, will be in for a treat!”
(Notice how he didn’t say what date it was on? That’s because it’s a secret, known only to three people and they all have amnesia. Someone has to know. Who’s in charge here?)
(The Necromancer ignores the rantings of his creator, like all good fictional character does and continues.)
“After weeks of fine tuning, after days of scouring through my books of spells, and after hours of painful electric therapy, but not to myself naturally, I have discovered where I went wrong with my monster last time and I’m proud to say that none of it was my fault at all! No, I have been dealing with a creature, who in life was nothing but a miserable failure and within the confines of the Labyrinth, and someone who has never faired well in tournaments.”
(So naturally his next match is six person tag, something he fairs even worse at. I know, I’m shutting up now!)
“I’m proud to say that I have taken steps to resolve that and rest assured in the 3rd Annual Christmas Brawl, you will all bare witness to the new, and improved Tiger Mask Undead.”
A primal roar comes from off camera and the Necromancer turns just in time to see a severed arm flying at him. He has the wherewithal to duck just as the severed limb flies over his head. Tiger Mask Red comes running in, a couple of Esior’s minions flung over his shoulders, while several more try in earnest to contain him once more. The Necromancer watches him go and lets out a sigh.
“I admit, there’s a long way to go with him, but you must understand how difficult it is to contain such a force of unnatural power such as him. At ‘Santa’s Baking Brownies’ I assure that I will have no problem. There will be three people standing across the ring from him who will be ample targets to unleash his crazed, undead furry upon. Three individuals that he rip limb from limb and sate his hunger upon. He will drink from Larry Gowan’s blood as it pours out of his head. He will floss his teeth with the hair of Jana Rikar after he rips it from her scalp after he gnaws off her fingers and clubs her into oblivion with her own leg. Then he will move onto the the GOL Rey de Reyes Champion, you, Mr Avery Miles III. My monster, Tiger Mask Undead, will take special delight in listening to you scream as he viciously, and without a shred of remorse, beats you within an inch of your life. When he is done, there will be just enough of you so that he can face you one more time for that championship belt that you wear so dearly around you waist.”
Esior the Necromancer takes a moment to brush off his jacket, and casually looks around to make sure his monster isn’t about to throw another body part at him, before continuing.
“Of course, I do realize that we are not doing this alone. My monster will have Senor Caballo De Guerra and Senor Ramon Garza in his corner. Rest assured to both of you that Tiger Mask Undead is nothing if not a team player, and I promise you that you will find him just as willing to follow your game plans, as he is my own.”
Another primal roar from off camera gives Esior just enough time to duck as one of his minions goes flying past. Tiger Mask Undead comes screaming by him again, this time with an armless minion sitting in his shoulders and several others holding onto him for dear life, just hoping to slow him down for a second. The Necromancer groans and clearly fights the urge to face palm himself out of sheer frustration.
“... maybe even moreso,” he adds.
“Bad monster,” he yells off camera at Tiger Mask Undead, “That will be an extra shock treatment for you!”
“FitUgiCveKsmeYawOooUdyCyoUugoNofT,” yells from somewhere off camera and starts laughing wildly.
The Necromancer groans again and turns back to the camera, realizing it’s still running.
“Turn that thing off,” he proclaims, waving his hands at it, “turn that thi…”
{Static}
***
A lone figure enters the factory and looks around. The place is deserted, but he knew that already. There were signs that showed however had once been here had left in a hurry. Tire marks heading off in every direction, cupboards and drawers left wide open after been apparently emptied. Tables flipped over… ok, that was probably from the monster they were trying to contain, but a hasty clean up job and the smell of bleach in the air only further proved his belief that that everyone had left as fast as they could and had tried to hide their tracks while doing so.
The lone figure carefully walked down the steps to the level below and walked down the hallway to the room beyond. Here again there was signs of a quick departure and a hasty clean up job. He noted though that whoever had been cleaning up down here hadn’t done as good a job as they had upstairs. The smell of something rotting filled the room along with the sent of bleach. It seems obvious they had been forced to leave before the job was done.
The loud bang of the steel door behind him, caused him to curse, and he spun around to see a few masked men come shuffling towards him.
“Just my luck,” he said out loud, “I caught you boys finishing up down here. I don’t suppose you’ll let me go without a fight?”
The masked men grabbed steel rods and a wrench off the tables and continued towards him.
“I guess that’s my answer then, eh?”
He readied himself for a fight and cursed under his breath for not the first time that he hadn’t brought the masked giant with the speech impediment with him on his trip. Shoot, he should have dragged Hammerstein along for the ride at least, it’s not like either of them were in the good graces with their wives these days.
A blinding flash suddenly filled the room and the man was forced to cover his eyes from the light. When it was gone, the man rubbed his eyes and looked around. The masked men lying still on the ground and a cloaked woman stood in the middle of the room staring at him.
“Elijah Flynn Buchanan, you really need to learn to check check everywhere if you’re planning to skulk around.”
Eli stared at her, in absolute shock. It couldn’t be her, she had been dead for sixteen years.
“Mom?”
Nicole Buchanan stepped forward and put a hand upon her son’s shoulder.
“That’s right, my son. We have a lot to talk about.”
).“The battle line between good and evil runs through the heart of every man.”
-Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
A howl of outrage fills the air in the abandoned factory as the Necromancer makes his way down into the bowels of the structure. He worries not a single bit about anyone hearing the screams. He has eyes everywhere around the building, no one is within fifty kilometers of this place. Beside, they would soon be gone from here. Word had reached him that the Storm had taken notice, and that was someone he wasn’t ready to deal with at this time.
He hurried down the stairs and down the hall. The maddening screams grew louder and louder as he closed the distance between him and the heavy steel door. Producing a key from his pocket, he unlocked it and entered the room beyond. What he found almost took his breath away, limbs of many of his minions laid scattered around the room. The Necromancer nearly panicked, believing his most precious creation had found a way to escape, but his fears quickly dissipated as he discovered all his minions who could still had two legs to stand upon circling around a table, the very same table the angry cries were coming from.
Quickly, he stepped forward and sensing his presence, his masked followers parted like the Red Sea. Much to his delight, there upon the table laid Tiger Mask Undead, strapped down at the feet, , wrists and neck. He roared in anger as he saw his master appear and spat at him.
“IgiHveAmeTyoEurYblOooU! YiwOillUfeaDstIupDonTyoHurIflSeaTshOanMdrEipYouOtyUourPfucIkingEeyCesEyoOuaSssHhoIleT!”
The Necromancer smiled beneath his mask. He was glad to see this rage from his monster. There was still hope that his grand scheme would succeed. Success meant bringing the thousand year prophecy to its fulfillment, the awakening of the beast and the rebirth of the world around them. Failure was not option. He must succeed! For that to happen, his monster must grow stronger, more vicious and, most importantly, more subservient to his will, no matter the cost.
He snapped his fingers. Two of his minions brought over a car battery and a set of booster cables. The Necromancer took the cables and attached one side to the battery, before lifting the other ends and showing them to Tiger Mask Undead.
“Drastic times call for desperate measures, my pet. Fear not, for this will make you stronger than you were before. I would tell you this will hurt me more than it will you, but we both that’s a lie.”
The screams that followed made those that had come before it seem like whispers by comparison…
***
To Avery Miles III, Jana Rikar and Larry Gowan,
Dear “Heroes”,
You don’t know, but I hope you will pay heed to my words. I write these words with hope that you will take them close to your heart. BEWARE OF TIGER MASK UNDEAD!
I know what you’re thinking, that this letter is a joke, or worse, propaganda from the Necromancer and your other opponents coming up at “Santa’s Baking Brownies”. Please allow me to reassure you that nothing could be further from the truth. I stand beside those who oppose the Necromancer and his evil horde, and nothing would bring me greater joy than to watch him fail at whatever his vile objective would be. Regardless of whether or not you believe me though, I feel I must try at least to warn you of the monster that you stand across the ring from.
First and foremost, please believe me when I say that Tiger Mask Undead is not some “act” orchestrated by a man trying to revive his career. Tiger Mask Undead is very much real and if you do not find a way to defeat him once and for all, he will only grow stronger by the day. You might ask how I know this, and I truly wish I could tell you, but for the time being this must be kept a secret. The eyes of the Necromancer are everywhere and if he discovers who I am it will only double his efforts to bring about his plans.
Do not underestimate this creature. Yes he lost to JT Smith, but the Necromancer had just begun to gain control of him and their connection has just begun. As time progresses this connection will only grow stronger, and so will Tiger Mask Undead. I have yet to fully comprehend how this foul wizard has gained control over this monster, or how it’s possible this monster even exists, but perhaps I’ve said too much with that last statement.
Jana Rikar, Larry Gowan, forgive me of my ignorance but I am unfamiliar with either of you, so I will address Avery Miles III. Avery, I wish I could let you know who I am, but rest assured we have met a few occasions and I have nothing but the greatest respect for you. You have fought Tiger Mask Red on two occasions, but please believe me when I say that neither match will prepare you for this creature that will stand across the ring from you. This is an unrelenting monster whose only objective is destruction and I fear that the Necromancer will focus his monster’s unrelenting gaze at you. I encourage you and your partners to do everything possible to put this monster down, and I’m not talking about for the three count. I mean for good.
God help us all if you fail. Please, do not fail.
Sincerely,
A concerned friend.
***
“Hold that camera still, you buffon. Wait, this that thing running? Are we live? Damn!”
Cold opening. Do not adjust your television. (Does anyone actually need to do that anymore?) The screen slowly grows clear and the Necromancer stands front and center, his hands folded across his stomach. He bows to the camera and raises his hands in the air with a theatrical gesture. (You don’t know what that means? Look it up, kids, I don’t have the time or patients to explain it. Now shut up, the goofball in the mask is about to speak!)
“Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. Once again you find yourself graced by the presence of none other than I, Esior, the Necromancer! Before I go any further, I wish to apologize to Senor Caballo De Guerra, I did see that tweet that you sent my monster. I am truly sorry that neither of us responded to you within a timely fashion, but when you are concentrating on creating a perfect weapon of destruction, other things tend to be overlooked and forgotten.”
The Necromancer suddenly pauses and starts blinking rapidly. (The idiot has forgotten where he was going with this. Are you surprised? I’m not, and I’m writing this shit.) He suddenly has his eureka moment and gets back on track.
“At ‘Guerreros of Lucha: Chapter Dieciocho: Santa's Baking Brownies’, those at attendance in the world famous Labyrinth and those watching from every corner of the globe, will be in for a treat!”
(Notice how he didn’t say what date it was on? That’s because it’s a secret, known only to three people and they all have amnesia. Someone has to know. Who’s in charge here?)
(The Necromancer ignores the rantings of his creator, like all good fictional character does and continues.)
“After weeks of fine tuning, after days of scouring through my books of spells, and after hours of painful electric therapy, but not to myself naturally, I have discovered where I went wrong with my monster last time and I’m proud to say that none of it was my fault at all! No, I have been dealing with a creature, who in life was nothing but a miserable failure and within the confines of the Labyrinth, and someone who has never faired well in tournaments.”
(So naturally his next match is six person tag, something he fairs even worse at. I know, I’m shutting up now!)
“I’m proud to say that I have taken steps to resolve that and rest assured in the 3rd Annual Christmas Brawl, you will all bare witness to the new, and improved Tiger Mask Undead.”
A primal roar comes from off camera and the Necromancer turns just in time to see a severed arm flying at him. He has the wherewithal to duck just as the severed limb flies over his head. Tiger Mask Red comes running in, a couple of Esior’s minions flung over his shoulders, while several more try in earnest to contain him once more. The Necromancer watches him go and lets out a sigh.
“I admit, there’s a long way to go with him, but you must understand how difficult it is to contain such a force of unnatural power such as him. At ‘Santa’s Baking Brownies’ I assure that I will have no problem. There will be three people standing across the ring from him who will be ample targets to unleash his crazed, undead furry upon. Three individuals that he rip limb from limb and sate his hunger upon. He will drink from Larry Gowan’s blood as it pours out of his head. He will floss his teeth with the hair of Jana Rikar after he rips it from her scalp after he gnaws off her fingers and clubs her into oblivion with her own leg. Then he will move onto the the GOL Rey de Reyes Champion, you, Mr Avery Miles III. My monster, Tiger Mask Undead, will take special delight in listening to you scream as he viciously, and without a shred of remorse, beats you within an inch of your life. When he is done, there will be just enough of you so that he can face you one more time for that championship belt that you wear so dearly around you waist.”
Esior the Necromancer takes a moment to brush off his jacket, and casually looks around to make sure his monster isn’t about to throw another body part at him, before continuing.
“Of course, I do realize that we are not doing this alone. My monster will have Senor Caballo De Guerra and Senor Ramon Garza in his corner. Rest assured to both of you that Tiger Mask Undead is nothing if not a team player, and I promise you that you will find him just as willing to follow your game plans, as he is my own.”
Another primal roar from off camera gives Esior just enough time to duck as one of his minions goes flying past. Tiger Mask Undead comes screaming by him again, this time with an armless minion sitting in his shoulders and several others holding onto him for dear life, just hoping to slow him down for a second. The Necromancer groans and clearly fights the urge to face palm himself out of sheer frustration.
“... maybe even moreso,” he adds.
“Bad monster,” he yells off camera at Tiger Mask Undead, “That will be an extra shock treatment for you!”
“FitUgiCveKsmeYawOooUdyCyoUugoNofT,” yells from somewhere off camera and starts laughing wildly.
The Necromancer groans again and turns back to the camera, realizing it’s still running.
“Turn that thing off,” he proclaims, waving his hands at it, “turn that thi…”
{Static}
***
A lone figure enters the factory and looks around. The place is deserted, but he knew that already. There were signs that showed however had once been here had left in a hurry. Tire marks heading off in every direction, cupboards and drawers left wide open after been apparently emptied. Tables flipped over… ok, that was probably from the monster they were trying to contain, but a hasty clean up job and the smell of bleach in the air only further proved his belief that that everyone had left as fast as they could and had tried to hide their tracks while doing so.
The lone figure carefully walked down the steps to the level below and walked down the hallway to the room beyond. Here again there was signs of a quick departure and a hasty clean up job. He noted though that whoever had been cleaning up down here hadn’t done as good a job as they had upstairs. The smell of something rotting filled the room along with the sent of bleach. It seems obvious they had been forced to leave before the job was done.
The loud bang of the steel door behind him, caused him to curse, and he spun around to see a few masked men come shuffling towards him.
“Just my luck,” he said out loud, “I caught you boys finishing up down here. I don’t suppose you’ll let me go without a fight?”
The masked men grabbed steel rods and a wrench off the tables and continued towards him.
“I guess that’s my answer then, eh?”
He readied himself for a fight and cursed under his breath for not the first time that he hadn’t brought the masked giant with the speech impediment with him on his trip. Shoot, he should have dragged Hammerstein along for the ride at least, it’s not like either of them were in the good graces with their wives these days.
A blinding flash suddenly filled the room and the man was forced to cover his eyes from the light. When it was gone, the man rubbed his eyes and looked around. The masked men lying still on the ground and a cloaked woman stood in the middle of the room staring at him.
“Elijah Flynn Buchanan, you really need to learn to check check everywhere if you’re planning to skulk around.”
Eli stared at her, in absolute shock. It couldn’t be her, she had been dead for sixteen years.
“Mom?”
Nicole Buchanan stepped forward and put a hand upon her son’s shoulder.
“That’s right, my son. We have a lot to talk about.”